Jerry Doesn’t Count Other People’s Miles

My Uber driver’s name was Jerry.

He was 77 years old.

And he picked me up from a place I didn’t really want to be seen leaving. One of those appointments.

The kind you walk out of a little quieter than you walked in. The kind where you check your surroundings…just in case someone you know is nearby.

I got into his electric blue Nissan Rogue, the kind of blue that feels like it has a little extra confidence, and the whole car smelled like cinnamon.

I was carrying more than just myself. I wasn’t in a great mood. Not angry.Just… heavy.

Jerry pulled up like he had somewhere to be.

Because, as it turns out, he did.I was his last ride of the day.

He was supposed to be done. Headed to meet his brother.To have lunch.

But he told me later… he saw where I was coming from, paused, and decided he wanted to see who I was. So he took the ride.

“Hop in,” he said, like we were already late. I didn’t know for what. But somehow… I believed him.

Three minutes into the ride, Jerry had already:

• missed one turn
• blamed it confidently on the GPS
• and told me he used to travel the country selling shoes

Which, based on his driving, felt like a bold claim… but I stayed with him.

Not “worked in footwear.” Not “had a job.” No, no.

Jerry said it like a man who had lived inside motion.

“I was everywhere,” he told me. “Every state. Every kind of store. You meet a lot of people when you’re selling something they didn’t know they needed yet.”

Then…casually, like he was mentioning a guy from down the block…“I was good friends with Steve Madden back in the day.” I had no idea who he was until I looked him up later  

No pause or explanation. Just… a life. And something in me shifted. Because here I was, sitting in the back seat quietly judging my own life…and this man was just… living his.

We hit a red light. Jerry looked over and said,

“You know why I still do this?” I had answers ready: 

Money. Boredom. Something to pass the time.

He shook his head. “You stop moving, you get old.” Simple. True. Then he added:

“But that’s not the real way people age.”

I looked up. Now I was really listening. “People get old when they start watching everyone else’s life instead of living their own.”

That one grabbed me hard. Because if I’m honest…I had walked out of that appointment already comparing.

Where I thought I should be. Where I used to be.

Where other people seem to be. Stacking my life up against invisible standards and somehow always coming up short.

And Jerry? Jerry wasn’t measuring anything.

He was driving. Talking. Missing turns. Laughing. Still in the game of life. 

“You know what keeps you young?” he said. I braced for something big. 

Jerry smiled. “Gratitude.” He tapped the steering wheel…You wake up and you count what you’ve got. Not what you missed. Not what someone else has. What you’ve got.”

He shrugged like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Otherwise, you’ll always feel behind… even if you’re exactly where you’re supposed to be.”

And there it was. Because comparison is quiet. It doesn’t announce itself. It just slowly convinces you that your life isn’t enough. That your story is lacking or your timing is wrong.

And if you’re not careful…you start believing it.

Jerry wasn’t doing any of that. At 77, he wasn’t looking sideways. He was looking forward.

Still collecting stories instead of comparing them.

We pulled up to my stop and I realized something I didn’t expect…I felt lighter getting out of the car than I did getting in.

Same life. Same circumstances. Different lens.

I said thank you… but it felt small. As I got out, Jerry said,  “Hey…one more thing.” I. leaned back in to the electric blue SUV  

“Don’t count your curses,” he said. “They’ll multiply on you.”

He smiled. “Count your blessings. They grow too.”

Then he drove off. Not to pick up someone else.

To go meet his brother. To enjoy his company.To keep living.

And I stood there for a second realizing, Maybe the fastest way to feel lost is to keep looking at someone else’s map. And maybe the way back…is simpler than we think.

Look at what’s already here. Call it enough.

And keep moving.❤️